


The night will fear the fire

by Manyaesu



Category: Naruto
Genre: Gen, Kakashi Week 2020, Kid Hatake Kakashi, Minor Canonical Character(s), Minor Character Death, Minor Original Character(s), Mission Fic, Non-Linear Narrative, POV Third Person Limited, Third Shinobi War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-21
Updated: 2020-09-28
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:29:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26570698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Manyaesu/pseuds/Manyaesu
Summary: Mere months into what would be called The Third Shinobi World War in history books, Iwa and Konoha's race for the uphand relied on information gathering. With the objective of verifying Iwa shinobi presence, a Konoha team was sent to their allied Kusagakure territory. Caught in a hostile takeover beyond Fire Country borders, they struggle to come back home.(or, in which a seven year old chunin, separated from his team, steps out of his father's shadow. For better or for worse.)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 20
Collections: Kakashi Week 2020, Naruto





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Kakashi Week 2020, Day 3: free prompt for Kakashi's birthday!
> 
> I'm uploading this late and incomplete besides because I couldn't work on it as much as I wanted. I had planned for a oneshot, but I'm struggling a bit to get where I want it to go. That said, I've decided to post what I have so far. This will probably be a 3-part 6-7k, and the second chapter is on the works so hopefully it will come out soon!
> 
> Enjoy!

**NOW**  
Sukea was born somewhere between Road to Yumei and Yama Mount. Clearly, he was doomed from the start: there was nothing concrete in dreams, and no root will take in a mountain named mountain. Perhaps his name came from the violent storm of that night, scaring away all living beings with an ounce of self preservation. 

But in a world of conflict, self preservation sometimes did not factor in the list of reactions from others’ actions. For example, a mostly self sustentable villa - with very limited outside market and barely any worth for travelers - had nowhere to escape when ninja came out to play. 

Running didn't help. Screaming even less. Sukea was forced face first in the days-old mud puddle, arm twisted painfully behind his back by a ninja that laughed when he heard his name. 

“‘Scare’, huh?”, he digged his knee on the boy’s back. “You might need to live up to your name if you want to survive in this world, boy.” 

The ninja did not believe he could, Sukea suspected. 

He was taken to the center of Fuma villa, where the large common area was turned into a makeshift prison: one group full of other scrappy children like himself, and another of adults; both watched by mean looking ninja with Kusagakure’s headband.

Some children were crying their hearts out, others stared with wide eyes at certain grownup villagers, and others didn't look at anything at all. 

The Kusa ninja dragged (by the arm, by the leg, by the hair) every resident to the agglomeration, and proceeded to quell the crying and begging with threats and occasional physical punishments. 

_This is just a warning_ , ~~Kakashi~~ Sukea thought, watching a civilian getting backhanded, and shrinking into the mess of children around him. _They could've caused a lot more damage_. 

A man with a lean built and dark green hair stepped forward. Expression blank, arms dangling by his side, and still his mere presence rose the fear of prey; the crowd hushed. 

(Kakashi did nothing against the wave of subtle, but steady, killing intent. One mistake will condemn himself and his teammates. Kusa and Konoha were supposed to be allies, but that mattered little when they were not supposed to be here.) 

“People of Fuma”, the man's baritone propagated evenly. “I’ll be brief: you are to pay for the protection our Kage extended to this region when Taki tried to invade us. Protection that the daimyo was supposed to pay with coins and goods, but didn't. Now conflict is upon us once more, and the daimyo refuses to meet his original bargain”, he showed the palms of his hands. “Simply put: you are what we are owned.” 

Voices of protests rose from the adults, one went as far as stepping closer, nearly spitting on his face. The man only watched calmly. 

What did a predator have to fear against attained prey? The villagers were surrounded, out-weaponed and out-trained by the dozen Kusa ninja that circled them like a wild pack.

Out of the sudden, the man put a hand on the shoulder of the civilian elder that dared invade his space. 

“Are you the village leader?”, he asked, somehow already certain of the answer. 

The elder, tense like a bow string, swallowed, cleaned his throat, and said with barely any tremble: “There’s no formal title, but I am a trusted advisor of the people.” 

The ninja, still holding onto the other’s shoulder, smiled. A small, polite thing from a gracious winner. “You understand, then, what it is like to prioritize the best for the many.” 

The man then wiped out his face, and turned his back to listen to a report from an incoming subordinate. 

Sukea's group was led separately from the other to line up against a low building wall. He couldn't see the adult group anymore, but he presumed that they, too, were ordered to strip naked. 

It was an inspection lineup. Seventeen children, ages five to fourteen, trembled under three pairs of watchful eyes, while one ninja checked their hands, feet, armpit, teeth, scalp. 

Sukea watched from the corner of his eye a boy a little down the line. The closer the inspector got, the more he shook. He shifted on his feet. Sukea could hear his breathing as if there weren't three kids between them. 

( _Do not fucking-_ )

Sounds of alarm turned everyone's attention. Their inspector took a step back; no one let up their guard on them. 

One person belonging to the other group must have aggravated the wrong person. A kunoichi had him by the hair, uncaring of his begging, and only let him go because she had him where she wanted: at her feet, where everyone could see them. 

Sukea recognized him now: it was Kuzo, the oldest son of the merchant family he came with. He was begging and sobbing, scared out of his mind, nothing like the mercurial youth Sukea met. From an unseen source (his parents?), gutural desperation. 

“Bargaining for selfish reasons won't be tolerated”, the kunoichi announced at large, and cut the boy’s throat. 

**EARLIER**  
Kakashi arrived at Fuma villa after travelling for three days and two nights with merchants that bypass it every year during their seasonal three months of itinerary. 

Although, if you asked the Funeno family (Hagari, Mai, and their son Kuzo), they would say that Sukea had been accompanying them since the start of their journey weeks ago, so their second child could stay behind to further their artisanal pottery apprenticeship. 

“Sukea-chan”, said the matriarch, “please help Kuzo set up the tent.” 

As an eager-to-please child, he did what was asked promptly beside a grumpy fifteen year old who was getting sick and tired of their traditional journey. Kuzo kept trying to argue with his parents about the benefits of changing routes. 

Late that evening, long after Kuzo had last sold one of their personalized pots, and the couple had left to take care of sleep arrangements, Sukea timidly risked: 

“Kuzo-san, can I go find us something to eat?”

Kuzo’s bored eyes looked at him before scoffing. “In the end you just got sick of it that fast, didn’t you?"

Sukea stammered, gesturing wildly. 

“Whatever”, Kuzo sniffed, then said intently: “Tell you what: you take, say, a twenty minute break, and then when you’re back so do I.”

He nodded hesitantly, hardly in a position to argue with the merchant’s son. 

“Great”, the older boy said dismissively. “Scram.”

Sukea obeyed. 

Fuma was located somewhat between Kannabi and Owa Bridges, which made them a good route for travellers, but their lack of entertainment tended to discourage visitors. For a small villa, it hosted a surprising number of different establishments, like blacksmithing, gardening, jewelry, handmade accessories, and culinary based on freshwater fish and harvests of their fertile soil. 

It was in one of those food stands that Sukea found what he was looking for. 

“Excuse me”, he said, letting the cloth partition close behind him. 

A weathered-looking woman accepting payment from two men welcomed him with a smile. 

“I got it, granny”, a boy said with a resigned sigh. 

“Good thing your father sent you to me”, the old woman clicked her tone. “How a healthy boy like you is afraid of work?!” 

“I said I’ll take care of it, damn it”, the boy grumbled under his breath, and told Sukea: “You can sit here. Did you- What would you like?” 

The woman sent him a faint nod of approval. 

“Just a congee, please.”

The attendant looked impatient. “Traditional base or something else?”, he waved at a handwritten poster. 

Sukea squinted at it. 

“We’re out of beef stock”, the granny intervened casually. “So it’s either water or vegetable.”

“...Vegetable.”

She nodded, pleased, and ordered her grandson to prepare it. Sukea pretended not to hear her hissing that ‘sometimes we have to read for our customers, pay attention, boy!’ before disappearing with dirty bowls. He also pretended not to notice the surprised and embarrassed look the boy sent him, who then fired up their available additions. 

“Here you go”, the attendant showed his first seller's smile to Sukea, putting down the steaming congee and the fried fish in front of him. “Carefull, it’s hot. Enjoy.” 

Sukea ate quietly, glad that he caught the business on a slow hour after minding an open stand since morning. 

Later, he hurriedly searched for a public toilet, aware that he was stretching his twenty minutes. There, he read the message his fellow chūnin, posing as the attendant, slipped. He needed a few instants to mentally decode it: 

Star missed 1 check in. No new orders. 

**FOUR DAYS AGO**  
Kusagakure’s forest was similar as it was unfamiliar to the Konoha team. If it weren't for their strange flora, such as giant mushrooms, perhaps the humid heat with a penchant for rain would feel closer to home. 

The charge in the air spoke of an incoming storm. The travelers they had been shadowing were already looking for a clear place at the skirts of the Road to Yumei to set up camp. Not much later, the trio of civilians, composed of father, mother and son, retired to the tent. 

In the forest reigned the quiet prelude to a natural phenomenon, wild fauna instinctually ceding to one of the aspects of their existence. 

Mikoto-taichō, layered in genjutsu, followed the targets. As agreed, so did Kakashi two minutes later. She was crouching over three sleeping bodies, her sharingan bright red even from his peripheral. 

“It worked as discussed”, she informed him. “I can show you what they know.”

Kakashi looked into her eyes. 

Later, alone with torrential rain drowning the darkness, he wondered at her caution to let the choice up to him whether he wanted to see what she showed the civilians, or hear an oral recount, despite the former being the more logical choice. His ability to live up to the person taichō created hanged on his understanding of how the Funeno saw him. 

Beside him, three genjutsu-ed strangers snored the night storm away, convinced that the young Sukea with them was from a poor family that would be glad to have one less mouth to feed for a few weeks, and would welcome back a son with life skills under his belt that they couldn't teach him. 

At this moment, Mikoto-taichō, Iaikiri Bai and Sahimoto Chen were running ahead to the villa of Fuma to prepare the next step of groundwork for their recon mission. There, they will choose a person to implant memories so that one of the chūnin could infiltrate the villa's daily life unsuspectedly. 

As long as Kakashi and, probably, Chen, made sure to regularly be in sight of their genjutsu-ed person, the jutsu will hold. Without further interference, the fake memories will gradually fade, only to stir like a lazy blob if inquired purposely. 

Mikoto-san’s genjutsu specialization was like a scabbing scratch: an easily ignorable itch but unmistakable when you poked it, and all it left behind was faint, discolored skin. 

The sharingan wielder was a fearsome thing, indeed.


	2. Chapter 2

Kakashi had never given much thought about fear until he realized that humans and animals crave it with a hindbrain-like need. The latter’s instinctual response to it was unequivocally connected to their survival in the wild: without it, they would be exposed to the elements, eaten by predators, dead by hunger. 

Humans were not much different in that regard. On the other hand, their makeup allowed them to be capable of analysing their own actions, before and after they were done. But not even men’s rationality could explain away fear, not to overcome it, nor to erase it. 

Kakashi's first jōnin leader saw it as a sign of weakness, and he tried to purge it by running genjutsu scenarios. It backfired when it leveled up to FUBAR situations in which no solution was a good one. 

(The newly minted genin that composed Team Eleven were: one five years old, one eight, another nine. Two months later not one of them could complete sensei's test without vomiting and looking each other in the eye. Too many dismemberments and messy killings by their own teammates' hands bled into their dreams.) 

Supposed weakness or not, the jōnin’s obsession with fear led him to forced retirement, and the genin to separate new team assignments. 

Others believed that fear was a chance to prove your self worth. 

When Kakashi was still at the Academy, he went home to find Jiraiya-sama there instead of his father. He was lecturing his chūnin team about the physical reactions of fear - paralyze, fight, or flight - and how either of them can get a shinobi killed. 

“The best I can do about it for you three”, he had said, “is to train you until your snap decision making ability overrules anything else. Once you have the proof that you can do it, it becomes easier.” 

“Would you say that the key is knowing oneself, then, Jiraiya-sama?”, Kakashi butted in, under no delusion that he hadn't been noticed by the four shinobi in his backyard.

Jiraiya smiled at him, his burly figure gigantic next to the teenagers even sitting down. He turned expectantly to his students: “Well? Is a four-year-old brat going to show you up?” 

Kakashi scowled at the old man’s gremlin grin, while his two dark haired students shifted on their butts. 

“You're Kakashi-kun, right?”, Namikaze Minato, the one the sannin always gushed about to Sakumo, said. “I think that’s exactly what Jiraiya-sensei means. Knowing your limits is the best way to aim further.” 

His father saw it as a fact of life. One of the few things that didn't change after… after. 

Soon after Iwa and Konoha declared open conflict, Kakashi was field-promoted to chūnin. He came back from his C-rank-mission-turned-A with a buzz under his skin, blood under his nails, soaked through his mask, brain matter on his hair.

He withstood the report to the Hokage and agreed to return in a few days to sign the paperwork that officialized his new rank, somehow. At home, he barely noticed his father bathing him and drying him. 

What he did remember clearly from that day was his father's voice telling that: 

“Of course you were afraid, son”, he said, matter-of-fact (and _present_ , like he sometimes wasn’t). “I’m afraid that you will feel it many times yet. It can’t be helped. It comes with the job, with being human.” 

“You can do many things with fear”, father murmured into his hair. “The only thing that matters is that you’re alive to feel it.” 

Whether humans' fear was feeble, unexplainable, or uncontrollable, it was undeniable that they could also cause it. Purposely, deliberately, deceivingly. 

**NOW**  
“Hey, you. Brat.”

With a startle, Sukea realized that he was being talked to. It's the ninja that tackled him to the ground when he had tried to run during the panic of Kusa’s sudden attack. 

“Chin up”, he told him with a smirk. “What did I tell you, Su-ke-a~. You can't say I didn't try to warn you”, he tuted mockingly. 

The boy looked down at his filthy feet, cheeks burning with humiliation. The children shifted away from him as much as they could. The murder of the Funeno merchants, who had tried to buy their way out, taught everyone an unforgettable lesson. And many of them knew who Sukea had arrived with fourteen hours ago. 

Eyes burned him with their intensity. Meeting the furious expressions of some of the older children, Sukea’s stomach dropped: the ninja didn't specify what he had warned about. They were assuming and believing, in their fear, something as illogical as an adult ninja telling their plans to a civilian child. 

(Should he protest? Would an outsider like him even bother to try to defend himself to children he didn't know? What should he _do_?) 

“Next”, the sharp command of their inspector cut through his pondering. 

They had a thick braid that reached their waist, severe eyes, and economic movements. They were looking meaningfully at him.

He looked around just to be sure. With the bubble his neighbors left around him, though, there was no mistaking it. 

Sukea almost stumbled halfway into his first step, unprepared for the late response of his limbs. He embraced himself for warmth, and didn't have to hide his trepidation at the Kusa nin continuing where they had left off as if three corpses were not cooling meters away from them. 

(At least Chen shook himself off: his current behaviour matched a scared child a lot more than earlier, when he was close to giving himself away. To Kakashi's relief, he kept up his fidgeting, incorporating into an act instead of nearly slipping into defensive stances. 

If the ninja noticed the change, hopefully it will be attributed to what they had just witnessed.) 

Sukea kept his eyes down, debating between rubbing his arms and hiding his genitals, the derogatory circumstance urging his mortification. 

“Where did you find this one?”, the inspector asked, looking at him narrowly. 

Dread coiled in his gut and iced his veins. His mind raced trying to figure out what he did wrong-

“Sukea-chan?”, the man hummed in thought. “Two blocks from here, at a patch of mud these people call a _park_.” 

“Search through his clothes.” 

“Is this not why you’re here, Matsuoka?”, he complained, but moved in the direction of the simple tunic and pants abandoned where Sukea had been standing. 

“Hands”, this time the order was for him. 

Matsuoka found more tender skin than calluses, like a young child that lacked the physicality to perform demanding manual labour. Instead of telling him to show his feet like with the others, the ninja took hold of his ankle, quick like a snake lunge. Sukea fell on his butt with a pained yelp. 

Sukea forced his eyes open at a new presence beside him. The ninja was looking down at him with his infuriating grin, snickering. 

“What’s your beef with this shrimp, anyway?”, he asked Matsuoka, listlessly. 

“I’ll spell this out for you, like usual”, they answered while examining the skin of his scalp, and ignoring the offended protest. “You saw how we had to keep some children from trying to run to their parents; all the youngest of this bunch, who were found at home, with their adults. Except this one. 

“Look how the others don’t give a fuck about him. Also, it’s a little late for a kiddy to be out, isn’t it?”, they said casually, digging their thumbs to force Sukea’s mouth open. “Say ‘ah’.” 

Sukea tried not to gag at the invasive feeling of fingers running over his teeth, checking the gum, under his tongue, the roof of his mouth. His eyes prickled with tears when they let him go with a scoff. 

“I- I’m not from here”, he offered, a little desperate, a lot quavered, picking himself off the ground with difficulty. “The people I came here with-”, he swallowed, looking imploringly at Matsuoka’s unreadable eyes. “...Were merchants that let me help out.”

“Aw, they dumped you here?”, the other ninja butted in with a mock pout. 

Sukea hesitated, but pointed with a shaky finger at the dead people. No one had bothered to pick them up yet. 

“...Ah”, the man vocalized, then bursted into laughter.

Matsuoka, faintly annoyed with their teammate, looked at the gaggle of children expectantly until someone broke: 

“It’s true”, one of the girls who had already suffered the inspection, maybe twelve years of age, said quietly. “I saw this boy at the pottery stand all day at the open market.” 

“All day?” 

The girl nodded, hands tight on the hems of her tunic. “Their stand was close to my mom’s. I always help her, so I remember seeing those merchants before.” 

Matsuoka made a sharp tilt with their head. Sukea scrambled to go back in line and redress. Too busy trying to get a hold of himself, he barely noticed Chen’s turn, only downing on him when the older boy was jerkily putting his pants on. 

He suppressed the compulsions to sigh in relief and to scold himself over losing awareness. 

Now that he was dressed and deemed harmless, it was easier to subdue his terror. Kakashi reminded himself to keep his head in the game. Thanks to whatever the fuck Kusa ninja were playing at, the risk of exposure went up exponentially. Their priority now was to remain undiscovered until they could escape to the rendezvous point. 

A girl around Chen’s age was getting her scalp checked; her last trial. Matsuoka’s dispassionate ways, no matter who they were inspecting, were a strange kind of familiar by now. The girl was released. 

Matsuoka grabbed her by the jaw before she could step away, and slammed her back first on the ground, easily overpowering her. 

The suddenness of it made every civilian startle and watch with eyes bulged out their head. The same ninja that taunted Sukea tripped another girl that tried to run to her friend, and pressed her down with a sandal-covered foot on her back. 

Matsuoka had one hand in the girl's mouth and the other on the pressure point to keep her from biting it. They extracted one of her molars.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading~ Please let me know what you think :)

**Author's Note:**

> I'm experimenting with a narrative style, so please let me know what you think! 
> 
> Thank you for reading!


End file.
